Writing Advice “They” Don’t Want You To Read

A few days ago, John Scalzi gave ten pieces of advice about money to writers. He talked about paying off credit card debt, buying good stuff and running it into the ground, and not quitting your day job. A bunch of his writer friends and associates chimed in, praising the article and agreeing with most of the points.

His advice is all well and good, except for one thing: it’s a bunch of lies. Not direct lies, oh, no. That would be too obvious. No, it’s all lies by omission. He’s trying to get you to focus on money instead of what writing is really all about.

Here’s the thing that you, the would-be fiction writer, have to understand about writing and publishing: it’s a big consipracy. It’s a cabal. There are probably robes and secret handshakes and driving around in tiny cars while wearing fezzes. You can tell because every published writer denies it, and if there’s stronger proof than that, I don’t know what it is.

You may be asking, “How can you say this? What are your writing credentials?” The plain truth is: I too am a writer. By that, of course, I mean that I wrote non-fiction columns for a dot-com from 1997 to 2001, when dot-coms would hire anyone to write as long as they were alive, and they were willing to be lenient regarding the being-alive requirement. After that I wrote the occasional freelance article thanks to friends who gave me assignments out of pity. I’ve also co-authored some twenty scientific articles, and everyone knows scientific articles require clear, entertaining prose. And if you don’t think writing scientific articles involves fiction, then have I got a rendezvous and docking system to sell to you!

Right, let’s get to the advice.

1. Writing and publishing is a grand conspiracy.

I know I said this above, but it bears repeating. You think this is a meritocracy? You think publishers are really looking for good writing? Ho ho ho. It is to laugh. How many times have your read a book and realized, “Hey, I can write better than this!” All the time, right? And chances are, your assessment is dead on. That book got published for reasons having nothing at all to do with talent and the value of the work itself. That leads to the next bit of advice:

2. You’d better get an “in”.

To listen to writers talk, getting published is as easy as writing well, telling an interesting story, and showing that work to editors. Hogwash! Editors may go on and on about how rejection is about the work, not about you, but make no mistake: it’s about you. You don’t know the right codewords. You’re not rapping out the secret knock on the door of publishing. These days a lot of writers and editors have blogs. Read them. Leave sycophantic comments telling them how wonderful they are. Over time, it’s just barely possible that they’ll think of you as one of them.

3. Writing and publishing is a zero-sum game.

One American in four reads no books. Of the remaining ones, the typical number of books read is four. Four! You’re fighting for a terribly small slice of an already-teeny pie, perhaps one of those apple pies from McDonald’s. The implications are clear: someone else’s success is your failure. The best thing you can do is work to undermine other writers’ confidence — nip their writing in the bud, as it were. Remember those blogs I mentioned earlier? On them, subtly imply that the writer in question isn’t a very good writer. Encourage non-writing activities like exercise and human contact. Remember: every Charles Schultz that gives up writing is one more slot for the next Bruce Tinsley. And the next Bruce Tinsley, to foreground this metaphor, is you.

4. Don’t stoop to writing just for the paycheck.

John Scalzi says, “To be sure, [holding out for 20 cents a word or more] can often mean doing writing that’s not typically described as “fun” — things like marketing pieces or Web site FAQ text or technical writing. But this sort of writing can pay well, expand your repertoire of work experience and (paradoxically) allow you the wherewithal to take on the sort of stuff that doesn’t pay well but is fun to do or is otherwise interesting to you.” You know why he’s saying that? Because every moment you’re spending on writing things other than your novel or short story is a moment he’s writing his novels and selling them to publishers who will then discard your much later submitted novel. Remember point 3. If you’re not writing what you want to be writing, you’re leaving the door open for others.

In addition, writing is all about your art and your muse. If you’re not following your muse, you’re doing hackwork that will turn your soul as transparent as a piece of wax paper wrapped around a lump of fried hamburger.

5. Suffering will make your writing truer.

Happy, well-adjusted people aren’t driven to write novels. Happy, well-adjusted people live happy, well-adjusted lives, far from the pale glow of LCD screens. If you’re going to be a writer, you need to have the inner life of one. Art arises from misery.

6. Poor writers are good writers.

That sounds paradoxical until you realize that I’m talking about “poor” as in financially poor, not “poor” as in “me no write well”. Getting money requires work, and a lot of that work doesn’t have anything to do with the Art you’re trying to create. Avoid making money and you’ll be a lot more miserable, and thus more likely to produce good Art.

7. Don’t have a significant other.

Husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends — all of them require you to spend a lot of time being with them and doing things for them. That’s time you could be spending writing. Even worse, if you’re someone who tends to be happier when you’re in a relationship, you’re taking a double hit: first to your writing time, and second to your unhappiness quotient.

8. Don’t have kids.

Everything I said above about significant others goes double for kids. All they are is a giant time and money sink.

9. In fact, avoid human contact at all.

When you’re writing fiction, you’re not writing people, you’re writing stories. Thanks to the internet and TV and books — the latter of which, thanks to Amazon.com, don’t even require that you interact with a person to obtain — you can learn everything you need to know about the human condition without interacting with actual humans.

You probably should have a blog, since you have a lot of opinions that others should share with you, but you shouldn’t enable comments. Comments are just another way of interacting with people.

10. Don’t show your work to others.

Other people fall into two categories: non-writers, who are thus no threat to you; and writers, who will steal your publishing deal and devour your soul. Non-writers have nothing useful to tell you about your work. If they did, they’d be writers. Writers are part of the same zero-sum game as you, so are going to try to destroy your Art if you show it to them. Also, your ideas are the most amazing thing you’ve got going, and other writers will want to steal them from you.

Carefully guard your writing, and only hand it out to publishers you feel you can trust. Early feedback will doom your writing.

It’s brave of me to tell you these things “they” don’t want you to know about writing. I hope you find it “useful”.

Lolcat eCards for Valentine’s Day

I can now reveal the secret project I’ve been working on: Lolcards. That’s right, it’s all the saccharine of Valentine’s Day cards combined with the stupid of lolcats. Nothing says “love” like an aloof animal that views you merely as a method of conveying food to its bowl, unless it’s an aloof animal combined with poorly-spelled captions.

We’ve got cute cards!

Smoochie Bandit

We’ve got sexxxy cards!

Parents Gone All Day

And if you’re a cynical type like me, we’ve got cards for you as well.

Valentine’s Day is for Losers

G’wan. You know you want to inflict them on other people. Send someone a lolcard. And since they’re all Creative Commons licensed, you can print them, put them on your own website, or most anything else. Just be kind and mention where you got them.

Lolcards. Spread the meme.

[tags]lolcats, Valentine’s Day, lolcards, ecards, free, smoochie bandit[/tags]

A Few Notes of Interest from the Weekend

  • Eli still has an ear infection so we will be retuning to the doctor sometime today for more antibiotics.
  • Liza has the snottiest nose in the western hemisphere. I am not kidding about this. I’m actually a bit shocked that one 18 lb. baby can produce this much fluid.
  • Stephen has a secret project brewing which he will hopefully be finished with and announce sometime today. Geof, it’s time to duck and cover.
  • Because of Stephen’s secret project, I did pretty much zilch this weekend and I had a great time doing it. Stephen’s story might be slightly different.
  • Liza’s sleep is still for crap. Which means my sleep is for crap as well. And no I AM NOT CRABBY about it!
  • All of Eli’s stories now involve: Mario, Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader, star bits, “Mmmmm, chicken!” (I told him about us playing that Douglas Adams adventure game from 10 years ago and he thinks roasted chickens coming out of a vending machine in the wall is funny.) and some form of the question, “Why did Anakin make bad choices and become Darth Vader?”. I’m pretty sure that we’re not going to be able to get him to understand the morality there until he’s about 12 but we still have the conversation on nearly a daily basis.
  • We still haven’t rescued Christmas photos off of Stephen’s old laptop, so still no Christmas photos.
  • Liza has learned how to say, “DaDa!” with a sign that I think is the Dad sign but could just as easily be, “Dada puts me on his head and says, ‘Liza Hat!’ and I love that!” or “I love me some bald Dada head! It’s good for licking!” and “MaMa!” which she doesn’t need the sign for because she just chants it over and over and over and over and over. These are her only spoken words besides “Pop” which she chants whenever Stephen’s dad is around.
  • Speaking of Liza signing, she can now do: more, milk, eat, all done, dad, bath. She recognizes and is trying to make: ball, Eli, water, light. I’ll be working on next with her: play, please, fruit, music, sleep.
  • To answer a question from May: There won’t be any posted photos of Eli’s birthday at JumpZone! because I didn’t want to go to the hassle of getting written permission from all the parents to publish photos of their kids on our site. Regardless, the highlight wasn’t even photographed and I only heard about it yesterday. Apparently, Eli got himself some birthday smoochies from that little red-headed girl, Mackenzie.
  • Liza has also learned to stand on her own. She usually has to have a toy firmly grasped in both hands to accomplish this but she can do it. She still doesn’t know what those meaty things are on the ends of her legs, so steps are still a good ways off.
  • Update: Oh, and I totally forgot: Peggle is the biggest time suck on the face of the planet.

Hello Internet! Did You Miss Me?

Yesterday through a series of events brought on by my sheer stupidity, my keyboard drank some apple juice. The irony of my mac keyboard drinking apple juice isn’t lost on me.

The prospect of cannibalism caused my keyboard to turn up its toes and die.

Yesterday morning I was working with a keyboard that didn’t do spaces or makes Ns or Bs. Have you ever tried to type a sentence without an N? It’s hard, ok. Then last night, Stephen disassembled the keyboard to see if he could dry it out enough to make it work. Since last night I was just using a mouse. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be until I attempted to send an email. Oops!

I just returned from the local mac retailer with a spiffy new keyboard. It’s tiny and flat and likely to increase my carpel tunnel by about 900% but dang, it’s shiny, shiny.

Stephen will be posting on his attempts to resurrect the old keyboard (with photos!) sometime soon, I’m guessing. Meanwhile, I’m off to answer some emails.

In 1st Edition D&D, Liza Would Be an Elf

Liza has developed her superpower early. She has the uncanny ability to sense an open door or drawer, rush to it, and find the most dangerous thing to try to eat. If you leave the pantry door open in the kitchen, she crawls in and begins chewing on the metalized sack of coffee beans. If you leave the guest bathroom door open, in minutes she’s pulled up on the toilet and licking it[1].

This is especially troubling in our bathroom, which has some twenty-seven doors and sixty drawers. In the morning, we usually put her in the middle of the bathroom while we shower and primp in front of the mirror. She plays happily with her toys until she grows bored and starts following her danger sense. I left the shower door open the other day and she crawled in, splashing happily while her diaper grew fat from the left-over water.

Today was the worst. While I was showering, Liza discovered that Misty had left her closet door open. I came out to find her eating Misty’s shoes. When I went into my closet to dress, I left my cabinet door open and she grabbed my pack of razors to chew on. I pulled it out of her hands and closed the cabinet, only to find she’d crawled behind me, gone into my closet, and buried her face in a plastic bag. I moved her out of the closet and finished dressing, and she’d pulled up on the cabinet drawers and had opened the top drawer into her forehead.

Closing doors works for now, but that’s a stop-gap measure. Already she’s figured out how to slide open the shower door. She is now smarter than a dog. Fortunately we’re soon going to put her on a leash and restore her to pet-hood.

[1] In terms of grossness, that’s nothing. On one trip back to Arkansas, we stopped at a truck stop in West Memphis. Misty took Eli into the bathroom to change his diaper and to go herself. When put down, Eli instantly fell to hands and knees and licked the floor. (back)

How Many Delegates Does Heidi Klum Have?

I have voted, despite Alabama’s attempt to make things as confusing as possible. The ballot has you vote for a candidate and then vote for delegates, and you’re only allowed to vote for delegates pledged to your choice of candidates. The Republican ballot at least has delegate competitions in groups of two, so you’re only making a choice between two people at any given time. The Democratic ballot has you pick “not more than four (4) women and not more than four (4) men”.

As long as the delegates are pledged to my candidate, I don’t really care which specific delegates are seated. It’s like the Project Runway of politics: It’s a competition for the models as well as the designers, but in reality no one cares about the models and their competition gets all of two minutes screen time.

Note to Racists: At Least Be Funny, Part 2

Does racism eat away at the part of your brain responsible for being funny? I’m beginning to think it might, in which case I’m clearly beginning a never-ending series of posts. This time around, it’s SalesGenie’s “Ramesh the Indian salesman” ad that aired during the first quarter of the Super Bowl.

Perhaps you missed that Ramesh Chakrapani, an Indian with an Apu-like accent, has seven kids. Don’t worry! There’s the shot at the end with Mrs. Chakrapani and the seven small Chakrapanis to refresh your memory.

The ad’s defenders have trotted out the usual litany of excuses: it’s humor! You’re just being politically correct! And besides, it’s not really racist!

Let’s do a quick experiment. Swap Ramesh out for a black man and give him over-the-top dialogue.

Hank: DeShawn! You’re my worst salesman! If you don’t double your sales, you’re outta here!
DeShawn: Dawg, I gots seven moufs to feed!

Still feel good about that ad? But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because the ad, written by Vin Gupta, CEO of the company that owns SalesGenie, just isn’t funny.

Vin, one danger in comedy is coming up with a concept but forgetting to make it funny. That’s this ad’s main comedic sin. Where are the punchlines? What, exactly, is supposed to be funny in this ad?

Comedy in part arises from the unexpected. There are only two things in this ad that are unexpected and not generic set-pieces: the boss’s name and Ramesh’s being an Indian with seven kids. The boss’s name, Hank Bulleymonger, is komedy. It’s not real humor, it’s humor lite. It’s a concept without a joke, and is lazy writing.

Then there’s Ramesh. You counter-sink the “he has lots of kids!” non-joke by referencing it twice, and worst of all, you have the wrong stereotype! Everyone knows that Indians work at call centers or Quik-E-Marts, not as widget salesmen! “Has a lot of kids” is the generic stereotype for poor people, especially minorities, as a whole. It’s not the specific marker for Indian — witness how I was able to swap out “generic Indian” for “generic black man” above without changing the thrust of the commercial.

I’m hoping you’re not unteachable, Vin. I’m guessing this is a one-off mistake that you won’t make again.

Wait, you wrote a second ad for the Super Bowl?

Whoops. Never mind.